A life I long to see
by Kagroo
Summary: In modern day Rouen a young group of political activists fight for a better world, led by the young and promising Enjolras. When Grantaire, a struggling artist with an alcohol problem, stumbles into their lives, a strange relationship forms between the two. Slash, E/R rating may go up


**A life I long to see - chapter 1**

**Fandom: Les Miserables  
>Ships: GrantaireEnjolras (may add some new as I go)  
>Setting: Modern AU<br>Rating: T (May go up)**

**Some of the details may be wrong according to the brick or what ever and I probably have spelling mistakes...  
><strong>**This is my first fic ever so I'll try to do my best! It's kind of short, but I hope you like it!**

**I do not own Les Miserables, all that goes to Victor Hugo**

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><p>In Grantaire's apartment you could practically hear everything through the walls. His friends had tried to convince him it wasn't all bad, but Grantaire really just saw downsides with the paper thin walls. He was constantly disturbed whenever he wanted peace, every time someone took the stairs you could hear it through the whole building and he lived with the constant fear of falling right through the floor.<p>

Sometimes he wished for a better life. Being a struggling artist in Paris and having to double between catering and working at a museum sucked. Neither jobs paid him enough. At the moment he was not being paid at all, since both the restaurant and the museum quickly discovered there were people out there more capable for the job. Who probably had more skills, drank less and slept more than him. In other words, he got sacked. Well, it had to happen sooner or later, Grantaire had just hoped it would happen later.

So Grantaire did what any normal person would do. He isolated himself from the world and started watching all seasons of everything on Netflix. The old laptop he'd gotten from his friend Eponine a few years ago was a lifesaver and his other good friend Jehan had promised to pay the Netflix bill for him for the rest of his life. As Jehan was more successful and wealthier than him. If he kept that promise Grantaire was sure to keep his economy stabilized, not using money for anything other than food… and alcohol. Ok, mostly the alcohol, but the food thing too.

It really was a pleasant phase in his life. He had never experienced this kind of happiness before, the only problem being he wasn't paid to watch Netflix and the money was wearing thin, but he didn't worry too much about that.

One day Grantaire was particularly grumpy. He was half asleep on the mattress he called a bed and listened to the creaking of the building.

_Damn you, thin walls. _

It had been a normal day, he'd been logging on to Netflix when his password was declined. _Perfect._

He managed to drag himself up from the floor and started studying the apartment. It really was a small, cold hole. And not like a cool hobbit hole, like a shithole.

He walked over to his little gallery, basically the closet he stored all his paintings in. His eyes caught his latest painting. It was the unfinished picture of Apollo, the Greek god of the sun.

Painting Greek gods was an interest he'd gotten into in middle school. As the years went by Grantaire got more and more into these gods. He painted them as many ways as he could. Sometimes it felt good to have the gods, even though he didn't believe they existed, he felt like they watched out for him. How weird that may sound.

It was hard painting Apollo. The god was supposed to be beautiful and radiant, but that was hard to picture. He couldn't figure out the reason why, but it was like he wasn't made to picture Apollo

_like he wasn't worthy._

Grantaire thought about that for a while before he shrugged it off. It was ridicules, the Greek gods didn't even exist and no one would arrest him for painting a picture of Apollo, even if it was really crappy. _It's just stupid_, he thought, but he still closed the closet door with a quick movement and threw himself down on the mattress again. This was his life now.

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><p>Grantaire awoke from his slumber at the sound of footsteps, a consequence of thin walls, coming up the stairs to his floor. Grantaire didn't worry, probably someone going up. His friends Jehan and Eponine, basically his only friends, had both been out of town for months, so he was safe from their "interventions".<p>

"Grantaire! I know you're in there!" Jehan's voice was clear through the door.

_Well, shit_

Grantaire groaned, he really didn't want to go through this right now. Maybe if he didn't answer, Jehan would go away.

But, it didn't work because obviously Jehan is Jehan and he also had a key, and who's idea was that... _thanks 'Ponine._

"Oh my god, Grantaire! What have you done to yourself?" Grantaire looked up and saw Jehan's small figure, looking greater than ever. "Are you even eating? You probably aren't and since I'm your friend I'm going to fix that. I've brought your favorite." Jehan showed him two full shopping bags.

"You know, sometimes I'm really mad at you and your book, and your money." Grantaire mumbled into his pillow. Jehan was a poet, and unlike Grantaire, he wasn't actually struggling. He released his fourth collection of poems last year and it was a real hit. Well, maybe not a huge hit, but at least he made something out of it. He also got an offer about a writing class in the south of France, where he'd apparently just gotten home from.

"Oh, I doubt that. I know you love me and my money." Jehan had moved into the kitchen and started unpacking the bags. Grantaire sat on the bed. "There's something wrong with my Netflix, do you know anything about that?" It wasn't really a question, more of a way to get Jehan to admit his felony. "There's nothing wrong with it, I just didn't pay for the next month." _There it was,_ Grantaire glared at Jehan. "Why?" It came out harsher than Grantaire had wanted it to, but Jehan deserved it. He had promised.

"Because it's not healthy! God, Grantaire! I didn't promise you that so you could throw your life away, I pay for it so you can enjoy some TV once in a while, Grantaire, once in a while. You've been in this room for, what? Three months?" Jehan had a concerned look on his face. "Not three months, I do go out. Sometimes…" This was the exact thing he wanted to avoid. "Okay, we don't have to talk about that. I'm making you a meal, we eat, but first I'll tell you the big surprise!" _Oh, no_, Grantaire thought. He hated surprises.

"We found you a job!"


End file.
